


His Pretty Little Plaything

by kurokitty_92



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokitty_92/pseuds/kurokitty_92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles snaps after putting up with years of Derek's bullying.</p>
<p>“Physical pain is so archaic… I think I’ll just play with you instead. You’re going to watch as I claw out every ounce of your soul until there’s nothing left.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Pretty Little Plaything

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been trying to get back on the writing band-wagon and this drabble happened. Please be kind, it has been YEARS since I’ve written anything.
> 
> For this fic I imagine Derek bullying (because let’s face it he sucks at flirting and this is the only way he has of getting Stiles’ attention) Stiles for being a Spark ever since they were kids but Stiles misinterprets the entire thing and bottles all his feelings up, until he harnesses all of his powers and uses them to exact his revenge.
> 
> P.s. I’d never want to be on the receiving end of Stiles' bad-side magical or otherwise :)

“Just kill me” Derek pleads from where he kneels against the wall. There’s blood trickling down his arms from where they’ve been chained above his head, the silver vices infused with magic and wolfs-bane; stunting his healing abilities and limiting his strength.

Stiles cackles from across the room, clapping his hands as he sits up straighter in his chair.

“Kill you? You think I want to kill you” he spits.

“What else do you want from me?” Derek chokes out.

“Oh, it was never my intention to kill you.” Stiles moves lightning quick. One minute he’s in his chair and the next he's gripping Derek's chin, eyes brimming with glee as he watches the werewolf’s eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Physical pain is so archaic; there’s only so much the body can take before it just shuts down… no, I think I’ll just play with you instead. You’re going to watch as I claw out every ounce of your soul until there’s nothing left.”

“Please, I’m sorry…”

Stiles mentally extinguishes the pang of guilt that pricks his heart at Derek’s words. After years of endless torment this is what he’s been waiting for and he won’t let anyone stop him, not even himself. He waves his free hand over Derek’s face, forcing visions into the werewolf’s mind, fingers crackling with pulses of electricity.

_First there’s the smoke. Black plumes billowing up towards the sky._

Derek gasps.

_Then there’s the smell. The fetid scent of charred flesh and ash._

And Derek chokes, coughing in a feeble attempt to defend his mind from Stiles’ attacks.

_The howls of his family come next. Desperate and gut-wrenching, layered with anguish. It’s more than Derek can bear. He tries to tear the door down, offer an escape for his dying pack, but there’s no respite._

_The visions assault his senses endlessly._

Stiles clicks his tongue as the electricity fades from his fingertips.

He looks down at Derek just in time to see the last traces of hope vanish from his eyes; a hollow shell of the werewolf he once was. The fun’s now over.

“And now I’ve broken you. Pity, you were such a pretty little plaything...”


End file.
